It was to the sound of birds chirping brightly and golden rays of the sun breaking through the stained glass of his bedroom window when Alfred woke from a sweet dream, his heart pounding loudly in his ears and his face flushed. Emeline... Sweet, sweet Emeline... He had dreamt of her again last night. Freckles adorned every inch of her round face, surrounded her perfectly rounded forest green eyes and her sweet pink lips, covered in a thin layer of lipstick. Her skin was pale white, often dusted with a thin layer of foundation. Her cheeks were always rosy, and more on the plump side, much like her body. Emeline was the daughter of a nobleman. She was always well-fed, enough for her small waist to become a thick waist, but it mattered not to Alfred.
It was a rarity to be fed that well, and he was just glad to know that she was taken care of properly. Why, if she was his, he would make sure she was fed that well and more, banquets every day, breakfast, lunch, and dinner, forever. Alfred would cook it himself if he had to; anything to please the beautiful young lady.
As he slipped out of bed, he couldn't help but wonder if he could go to the market today and see her. She was always around town during the day; her mother and father were more careless than most parents and found it to be best that she did some of her on shopping, seeing as when she was married she would be doing that.
Alfred rushed to get dressed; pulling on a pair of loose brown trousers, white shirt and brown vest, as well as his worn brown shoes. He then rushed out the door and hastily made his way to the kitchen, nose crinkling at the smell of the burnt scones Arthur was once again making. Why did Martha have to choose today to rest? Alfred thought to himself about their maid. He sincerely hoped he didn't make himself violently ill trying to eat these... He didn't want to miss the chance to see Emeline!
As he slid into a wooden chair, crafted by England himself, he smiled sweetly at the man. "G'morning." He greeted.
"Alfred, use proper English. Good morning." Arthur insisted as he set down a plate of three burnt scones before the young boy.
"Good morning." Alfred grumbled back, looking down at the inedible black mounds with distaste.
Arthur sat down on the other side of the table, a small slice of bread in his hand. "Did you sleep well, boy?" He asked.
Alfred nodded, putting on his best innocent facade. "I slept very well, Arthur." He answered, blinking his blue eyes at Arthur as he slowly picked up a scone. "How did you sleep?"
"I slept alright." Arthur answered, watching the boy. Alfred put it to his lips, opening his mouth with a shaky hand, and just then, Arthur sighed and took it from his hand, replacing it with the bread. "Bloody git, you act as if you are to die should you eat them." He said, sighing as he took the plate as well.
Alfred didn't reply, excitedly eating the bread he was given. "Are we going to go to the market today?" He asked, trying to make his tone as high and sweet as possible. He was thirteen now, and the innocent little boy act was beginning to loose effect on Arthur—after all, he was almost fourteen, almost a man—but Alfred was twice as determined today.
Arthur sighed. "You've been wanting to go there an awful lot lately, hm?" He asked.
"Er... Yes. I enjoy seeing all the people."
"Is that so?"
Alfred nodded. "Yes."
Arthur sighed, walking around the table and approaching the young boy. "Alfred," he began, "you know that you and I are not like the others we see around, yes?"
"Yes." Alfred answered simply. His throat was so dry all of a sudden...
"And you know that you and I cannot love them, either?"
Alfred's gaze fell to the floor. He swallowed the lump in his throat and gave a small "yes."
Arthur put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Is there someone?" He asked softly.
The boy shook his head. "N... No." He replied. "I-It would be silly to have any feelings for a human, you have told me this before."
Arthur heaved a sigh. "Yes, I know I have, lad... But sometimes, we do things that don't make any sense. Although we are not human, unfortunately, we think and feel as if we were." He said, patting the boy's shoulder with a sad smile.
"...It's Emeline!" Alfred exclaimed, abruptly pushing Arthur's hand off his shoulder. "Now leave me be! I'm going to the market!"
Arthur watched, eyes widened, as Alfred stormed out of the room and out the door, deciding against following. After all, it was best to let the boy have some of his own time... Even if it meant letting him make is own mistakes and experience heartbreak firsthand. As much as Arthur tried to prevent it, the fact of the matter was that eventually, Emeline would die, and Alfred would remain.
The walk to the market was simply exhausting. Although the boy lived within a mile of the town square, he had gotten used to having a carriage take him. Having to walk, Alfred was quickly discouraged, and had almost stopped, thinking it wasn't worth his time to go through the trouble of buying the girl a gift if she would never be his. But thinking of her face as it lit up, her sweet smile, and the kiss he would hopefully receive, he was filled with a renewed strength and carried on until he reached the square.
Immediately, he rushed into the silversmith's shop, feeling the lump of coins he had in his pocket. It hadn't taken long to get all of these; Arthur had much to spare, thanks to his pirating days. All Alfred had to do was simple household chores to make the money. He just hoped it would be enough for the beautiful necklace he had his eye on for the past month now... Alfred was surprised it was even there, it was so lovely. Of course, most couldn't afford such an item, which only made him feel even more excited to show it to Emeline.
If she saw what he had brought him, she would see that Alfred had enough money to take care of her, as well as make sure she had everything she would ever need or want. After all, thirteen was old enough to be a man in his eyes, and though Emeline was sixteen, surely she would realize that age was nothing when it came to true love, and soon enough the two would be able to wed. He didn't care what Arthur said; Alfred would love her until she died and after. Forever.
"How much for that one there?" Alfred asked, pointing to the beautiful necklace.
It was a golden necklace with amethyst stones sitting in the center of a gold ring. Even to Alfred, it was beautiful, and he wanted nothing more than to present it to Emeline and see it around her beautiful neck.
"10 crowns." Said the man behind the counter.
Alfred's eyes widened as he rifled through his coins; he barely had enough! He set the money on the counter, looking back into his almost empty coin pouch, which now only held a few farthings. The necklace was passed over, thankfully in a small velvet pouch, and the man smiled knowingly as Alfred took it in his hand.
"Good luck, m'boy!" Called the man, and Alfred gave a hasty wave as he left the shop.
Alfred's strides were long as he walked out, the town bustling as he headed toward the place where Emeline most frequently shopped; a vendor named Edmond's stand that was almost always stocked with ripe vegetables around this time of year. Emeline had always adored fresh vegetables; she often told Alfred how much she loved to make stew with them.
When he arrived, she was not there, but Edmond, smiling knowingly, immediately told him that she had not come yet today. "She hasn't been through 'ere the past few days, lad."
Alfred nodded, bought a few apples with the ten farthings he had left, and walked across the street, around the corner, down an alley, and straight to Emeline's door. He simply couldn't wait to share his gift with her! He could barely contain his excitement as the butler of the house opened the door and asked who he was and who he wanted to see.
"Alfred Kirkland, for Emeline?" Said the boy, gazing up at the balding man with hopeful blue eyes.
The man sighed, opening the door. "Please do not be too loud," he said simply, pity flashing in his worn brown eyes as he lead the boy down a black-painted hall and pushed open a door.
A small cough came from the room. "Roger...?" Came a weak, frail, and yet beautiful voice from inside the room.
Alfred peered in and his eyes widened in shock. Emeline lay in her bed, her long, beautiful hair untied from it's normal tight updo and splayed messily upon her pillow. Her face was pale, her eyes bloodshot, her hand shaky as she waved Alfred in. Her smile was shaky as she watched the boy slowly approach her bedside.
"E-Emeline? Are you okay?" He asked softly, his bright eyes filled wit worry. The hand in the pocket of his trousers squeezed the velvet bag.
"No, Alfred." She said. Her beautiful voice was so hoarse... Her eyes glinted with tears. "I am very ill... I'm afraid I will soon perish." She told him, reaching out to take his hand. "Thank you for coming to see me... I had hoped to see your face once more before—" She was cut off by her own terrible cough. It went on for a minute, and all the while Alfred's eyes filled with tears.
"Emeline, please!" He whimpered. "Y-You can't go... Look what I brought you, see?" He asked as he gently laid the bag of apples beside her waist and displayed the ripe, red fruit to her. He then revealed the velvet pouch and handed it to her.
Her weak, shaky hands pulled the bag open with a little difficulty, and when she peered down into it and saw what was inside, she gasped. Slowly, she unearthed the beautiful necklace and gazed at with wonder. "Oh, Alfred..."
"S-See? I-I'll take care of you, Emeline... I'll take care of you now and forever! Won't you get better for me?" Alfred pleaded.
The woman gently pulled Alfred closer, kissing his cheek. "I know you would have, darling. One day, you will make a most worthy husband. I can only hope that you will treat any woman the way you have treated me." She whispered, smiling softly. Her eyes were glazed over with tears as well.
"I-I don't want another bride," Alfred hiccuped, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes.
She ran her palm down his cheek. "Don't despair... I know you will be okay."
Alfred nodded. "I will go now..." He said softly.
"Of course."
Alfred turned on his heel and ran, shoving out the doors of her home.
When Rogers went to check on Emeline, she had the necklace clasped around her neck. "Inform my father that I wished to be buried with this." She instructed.
When Alfred burst into the house later that day, threw his arms around Arthur, and began crying into his chest, the man held him tightly, stroking his hair.
"This is unfair!" Alfred cried loudly, anguish having consumed him on the long journey home.
Arthur petted his hair, walked to the window with his arms around the colony, and blinked. The storm clouds that had started appearing earlier had opened up and let down their fruit upon the Earth.
"I know," he mumbled softly as he set Alfred down. Arthur shed his jacket and shoes, then gently tugged both of the items from Alfred as well, and once again scooped him up into his arms. The colony clung to him, wetting the shoulder of Arthur's pristine shirt as he sobbed into it.
Arthur had received the news that Emeline was sick two days ago by her father, as he was friends with the nobleman. The man had been absolutely distressed, prattling on about finding a cure that Arthur knew would forever elude poor Emeline's father. Death was a cruel master, and all humans were slaves to it; even nations were, in some cases, as France had once told Arthur when he was a boy like Alfred. When Arthur himself had first become attached to a particular human, France had warned him, and when he had died of old age, Arthur himself had not physically aged a day. Arthur regretted the time he had spent apart from the man when they could have been together, regretted every moment that he had wasted. Time was another master, perhaps even more cruel than death; or perhaps they were one in the same.
Time ticked for humans, rolled by, let them move at their own fast pace. They developed, they aged, they went from adolescence to adulthood and eventually passed from this life to the next, forever immortalized. Nations were not allowed such a luxury. They didn't age fast enough; even the oldest ones Arthur knew looked like they had barely aged to human adulthood. Their lives spanned centuries and centuries. They were not able to fall in love, not able to die unless their whole nation fell. Indeed, time and death were cruel masters; for they were never allotted enough time, and yet they were never allowed to die either.
Arthur took Alfred outside and brought him to the hill Alfred often insisted they sit on when Arthur gave him lessons in reading. The rain pounded against them, and Alfred was confused, as Arthur never liked for his clothes to get dirty. Even so, he said nothing as the man set him down atop the hill and gently dropped beside him, sighing.
"The sun comes up every day, my boy. Some are only lucky enough to see it for sixteen years, others for hundreds. All we can do is appreciate the times when it shines. When the clouds break open and the rays are blocked, we must simply let the water wash our sadness away."
Alfred looked up to the clouds and let his tears mix with the rainwater until the two were indistinguishable.
